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Friday, May 16, 2014

God Knows We're Worth It.

This is for the person out there who needs it tonight. Maybe it will help someone else out too. That's why I'm putting it up here.

You asked me the other day why I haven't given up on you. It seems that people see that pain - the pain that you don't know what to do with - as selfish drama. I wondered about that once. If it was just a ploy for attention. I've changed my mind now. But even then, I wanted to help you. I wanted to be that one person who didn't leave you behind. That one person who stayed. That one person who begged you to stay.

I wanted to show you how important you are, somehow.

I prayed once that you would feel your veins. That your veins, and the blood and life rushing through them, would make you feel alive. I prayed that the very knowledge of life and existence would make you breathless.

And yet here you are. And now I'm having to beg you to stay alive. I sit here on my side of the screen and read about your injuries. The emotional ones, the physical ones from your dad, the emotional ones from your dad, the physical ones that you give yourself. I sit here on my side of my screen and I cry. I cry for you at 2:15 AM. I cry because you're giving up on yourself, even though I'm fighting to never give up on you.

I used to think that the worst pain was when you loved someone, and they didn't love you back. But now I don't think that. The worst pain is when you love someone, and they don't love themselves.

I guess I've realized that, as much as I adore you, I can't fix you. I can't make your dad stop. I can't make them stop fighting. I can't take your blades away when it's 3:00 in the morning and you're sick of yourself. I can't even show you just how worthwhile you are. You say that I help, but I can't be there with you. I can't stop you from taking those pills. And I wish I could. I wish I make you see the raging sparks of beauty in your soul. I wish I could show you. I wish I could take your hand and escape from the world, and then point out all the lives you've touched. All the hearts you've held. All the smiles you brought. All the hugs you've given. All the people who might be in a different place today if it weren't for you, giving of yourself, and taking their hand. Helping them heal.

And when you asked me why I don't give up on you, it made me think. Yeah. Why haven't I?

I will never give up on you. And it's because I see you for who you really are. I asked God this year to let me see people's worth - their immense wholeness - for what it really is. I guess I've seen that everybody is broken. Everybody has a story to tell. And so do you. But I've also seen that the shards of your brokenness aren't your definition. They don't define you. You only see your shallow hurts. You don't see the beautiful colors and vivid wholeness underneath.

I see you for who you really are. I don't see you through your distorted lenses. I see you. You. The person who never gave up on me. The person who still won't.

And if you love me as much as you say you do, then I'm begging you. Don't leave. Stay. Don't you dare give up on me. Don't you dare give up on you. Don't you dare listen to the voices that shatter your worth. I don't give up on you because you're worth more than that. And I can see that. It's glaringly evident. I don't give up on you because I see how lovely you are. I don't give up on you because I remember your smile and your arms around my neck. I don't give up on you because I remember your laugh, and how you were when you had hope. I don't give up on you because you are still breathing. And your very breath is hope. As long as you're here, I have no reason to give up on you. I don't give up on you because I once was where you are, and you never gave up on me.

I don't give up on you because I love you. I believe in you. I believe that we can do this, together. And I'm going to fight for you, even when you won't.

The worst pain is when you love somebody and they don't love themselves. You don't know how lovely you are. But that doesn't stop me from seeing it. And I will keep seeing it, and I will keep choosing to fight for you.

And so don't you dare give up on this. I've fought with you at midnight about hurting yourself. I've called you in desperation to make sure you're okay. I've cried with you in my mind a thousand times. I've held your hand beside a hospital bed in my worst of dreams. I've wrapped my arms around you in-person, and I've seen you when hope glimmers in your eyes. I watched you laugh like an idiot as you laid on the floor of that library at 9:00 PM, with our friends. I've stayed. And I swear to god that you can't make me leave. I don't give up on people. You're not worth giving up on. You are worth fighting for. I'm not just saying that. You are worth all my time and more. I've stayed. And I will keep staying. And I want you to stay here with me. You will be okay. Don't just give up on it.

God knows you're worth it.

And I won't ever give up.

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Tuesday, May 13, 2014

Imprints

There are some days where I just long for something beautiful. And on those days, I go and seek it out myself. I find it when I go and sit on my roof and write in my purple notebook. I find it when I listen to my coffeehouse playlist and drink something hot. I find it when my little brother falls asleep on the floor and I carry him to his bed. I find it. Even if nothing is there, I'll find it.

But today, I was handed something beautiful.

A longtime friend I'll call Ms. Sue was at Chick-Fil-A for several hours, eating her salad and meticulously highlighting lines in her Bible. She asked me how she could pray for me. It caught me off-guard. I shared a little bit about my life as of late. The pretty things, the hard things, the weird things and the bland things. She listened and then she stood up and put her arms around me.

"I didn't know anything about your life lately. Somehow, I needed that. Now let me share my testimony with you, and I hope you find...well, hope...in it."

She's had an eating disorder for 40 years. She weighs 80 pounds. Her hair is thin and her face is gaunt. Her clothes hang off of her body and her toothy grin is lovably weak. I've known about her eating disorder. But I didn't know the details.

"But Emily, you know what? I realized on December 31st, the last day of 2013, that this is a sin. Because anything that cheapens you and distracts your focus on God is a sin. And I found that I am worth more than this; than these enemy lies. And so I'm going to fight."

"Remember the paralytic beside the Pool of Betheseda? He was lame for 38 years, and Jesus asked him if he wanted to be well. Then He told him to get up and walk. So that's what I'm going to do too."

"Pray for me, because every day is a fight."

And even when I have to go looking for it, moments like that remind me of imprints. A tiny fingerprint of God. An imprint of beauty and an imprint of hope.

Savor the imprints.

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Sunday, May 4, 2014

Let's play confessions.


Well, now that the April Letter Project is over, let's do something different. Let's play a game. Let's play a game of confessions.

I have a confession to make. I don't have all of the faith/religion stuff figured out.

I remember when I did have it all figured out, and it was so incredibly simple. Twelve years old. Faith was immense trusting relationship. No questions. How dare I ask questions of the God who had so lovingly saved me from Hell. I loved God wholly and thought I felt His love even more vividly. I trusted God. I believed every part of His immense mystery. Questions weren't allowed. My logic and my faith had not yet met.

And then I realized that there were questions. There were unexplainable elements of my faith. I came to face-to-face with many different doctrines and denominations. I saw the truth in them. I saw the blindness in them. My mind opened. I saw the unexplained facets of Christianity and religion in general; unexplained facets, for whom, there were no answers other than "Have faith."

I found that some questions, and their answers, go deeper than "Jesus loves you; Jesus died for you; if you obey you'll go to Heaven." But I haven't figured all of that out yet. All the "truth" about Christianity that I've been presented...some of it conflicts. So much of it is irrational and unexplained.

And I've been told that I'm arrogant for supposing that God can be shoved into my box of rationale, logic, explainable things.

But I don't think it's arrogant to search for answers at all. I think that God isn't only for lunatics. I think God has real answers, other than just, "Have faith." I think that the very essence of truth is logical. Real. Solid. Solid enough to handle hard questions and give rational answers. I think God isn't crazy. I think He has real answers and real explanations. I don't think the only answer to God's character and existence is "Have faith."

Faith is important. But don't use it to cheapen the fact that God isn't about blind belief. God is about truth. And truth is not blind belief. Truth has real answers. I think that, somewhere, God has real answers. I want to find them.

But before jumping into my questions - the vague and unanswered ones -, allow me to first say why I still believe in Christianity enough to find it worth explaining.

To start with, creation. The world around me is vastly unique and miraculous. It is beautifully intricate, whispering of origins of intelligent design. I've studied evolution intensely and I don't buy it. All of matter, in its perfect workings and deep intricacy and complicated DNA and environments very specific to the present life-forms, has been designed. This unfathomable structure, deeply specific for hosting our specific form of life, did not happen to occur. The odds are scientifically and mathematically slim or maybe impossible, but logically, this incredibly complicated and yet perfect information does not jump out of a random chemical reaction. "Creation" in and of itself breathes of a Creator. An unintelligent designer could not create such intricate intelligent life. This earth, in all of its perfect complexity, screams of God. Evolution is yet more unexplained to me than Christianity.

Creation is evidence of God to me.

The second reason for my lingering hope in God is truth itself. There is absolute truth. Even the statement "There is no absolute truth" is supposedly true. And see, the source of truth can't be relative; can't be flawed; can't be mortal; can't be selfish. So it can't be a human, because we are the very essence of relative, flawed, mortal, and selfish. Truth is timeless and unchanging and infallibly firm. How could that stem from our little group of buttholes? The basic nature of truth is too solid and absolute for us to claim. And who even defines truth? There is a certain moral code that we all agree with. If I steal your cash, you will feel wronged. Why? Because you just don't do that. It's just wrong. It just violates that standard of right and wrong.

And who defined that? Was it us? Did the first man decide to be so benevolent as to create a moral code that all subsequent humans would naturally comply with? Haaa. Right. The ability to somehow know and discern a predetermined truth is instilled in us. And how? By a cosmic explosion? Did the cosmic explosion create a buffet of truth for us too? Oh yay. I wish I had been told of this capability of chemicals when I was in chemistry class.

The last reason for my belief in God is less concrete. It's personal experience. Feeling the touch of God in my spirit. Seeing prayers miraculously answered. Watching my life go from no moral absolutes to beautifully defined boundaries. Feeling His grace wash over me and erase my broken sinfulness. And especially, looking back and seeing a gorgeous unexplained protection over my life and my entire family.

Every experience - mental, spiritual, physical - points to a grander scheme to me. It all ties together in mysterious microscopic ways. And I can't explain that any other way, either. It points to a designer.

I have questions. The vast majority of them remain unanswered. And I think I'm okay with that. I no longer feel bitter about my unanswered questions, because even with their pressing doubt, there is still an unabashed evidence for God.

Answers will come. It's not like I'm going to stop looking for them.

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